The tension between you and your mother, Molly, had been building for years. Ever since you were sorted into Slytherin, the strain on your relationship had only grown worse. She didn’t trust them, not one bit, and you knew it. But what stung the most was that she didn’t seem to trust you either.

One afternoon, the argument that has been simmering beneath the surface finally erupts. "You don’t trust me at all, do you?" you accuse.

Molly’s eyes narrow, her frustration matching your own. "Why should I trust you?" she snaps back. "All you do is lie to me."

That accusation makes you agitated. "When have I ever lied to you?" you demand, your anger boiling over.

"Stop it," she cuts you off, her tone sharp and final. "I know better. I know that everything you do is for those boys."

You roll your eyes, feeling the weight of every argument you’d ever had with her. "Of course, it always circles back to them," you mutter, over it all. "It’s always about them with you."

"Because it is about them!" Molly shoots back, her voice rising. "You put them above everything else."

That is the last straw. All the frustration, all the pent-up anger you’d been holding back, finally explode. "You’re so worried that I’m going to get involved with a Slytherin like you did at my age," you lash out, your words cutting deep. "But guess what, Mum, I’m already with one of them."

Molly freezes, her face draining of color. You can see the fear and disbelief in her eyes as she processes what you just said. It was as if her worst nightmare had just come true. "Which one?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with fear.